A Normal Life
by Eclipse-Sol
Summary: With the timeline broken, what happens to Elizabeth and Booker? Can they live a happy life, or will Booker remain in his depression? Cover art belongs to Zoe-productions of Deviant-art , please check her out, some really awesome pics on there. (Random updates until I can manage a schedule)
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Guys, we have a serious problem. A very large serious problem. In fact, if you've got the time, this is a twelve story problem with grand entrance, carpeting throughout, twenty-four hour portage and a large sign reading "THIS IS A SERIOUS PROBLEM." The problem being that I have scoured the Bioshock page, distraught from the Burial at Sea ending (I'm saying nothing) and there being no stories about Booker's and Anna's/Elizabeth's life after **_**Infinite**_**, at least a story that showed father/daughter life. So here it is! **_

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

**A Normal Life.**

Elizabeth looked down at Booker, his body being taken away by the slow current in the small lake. Her heart wrenched at the very idea of having to kill him, even if to save him, and now that the deed was done, a sense of self-loathing settled deep in her stomach.

"_My own father, who had done nothing but try to protect me and love me, and I killed him."_ A single tear rolled down her face as she knelt in the shallow lake. Though she knew the cycle would keep repeating if he lived, she didn't particularly care. All she wanted was to spend time with her father.

Slowly, the duplicates of her began vanishing as their universes collapsed and ceased to exist. She looked behind her, only two of her remained, looking onward with sorrowful expressions.

One heart beat, and the leftmost Elizabeth vanished, the religious clothing she had worn showed her dedication to Comstock.

Two heart beats, and the penultimate Elizabeth vanished into oblivion, taking with her the comfortable clothing of a Columbian citizen.

Elizabeth didn't want to vanish, she didn't even know if she would. She was not from this reality, so would she disappear, or return to her own? Doors were closing so fast, she couldn't tell. She began to feel dizzy, only half a dozen more doors remained open.

Her strength left her, bringing back a feeling of helplessness, only a few doors now.

As the final doors closed in her face, she fell into blackness.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

Booker looked at the man standing in front of his desk, hands behind his back, an aura of superiority surrounding him. "Come now, Dewitt, give us the girl, and wipe away the debt. I'm offering you a way out, all you have to do is take it." The mans voice grated on Booker's nerves.

"My debts are my own, I will deal with them my way, but I will not sell Anna. I have turned you down twice before, ask again, and I will shoot you. Now please leave." He demanded, gesturing with an open hand towards the door. The man looked shocked, as if not fully expecting his answer, but the hard look in Booker's green eyes simply oozed anger.

While the two men were staring each other down, the light streaming in from the window brightened considerably, bathing the room in a bright white light. Both Booker and the mysterious man looked out the small window, only to see the skyline of New York being obliterated, as if the universe itself were being destroyed. When the wave of destruction reached the building they were in, there was no pain, no sound, no light and no darkness.

Simply _nothing._

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

A cry pierced the inky blackness that surrounded and smothered his consciousness. His eyes cracked open to see his small room, signs of the coming dawn scattered around the messy space. The green paint peeling from the walls, empty bottles littered the nightstand. The cry rang out again. Booker quickly shot up, only to be rewarded with a pounding head, blurry eyes and another cry from the next room. He tried again, meeting better results, before he stumbled to the door, knocking several bottles around the room with his feet. He opened his office door that led to the only bedroom, and the sight that met his eyes made a smile creep onto his face. A single crib stood in the center of the room, a hiccuping coming from it. The room was in better condition than that of the rest of the apartment, the wallpaper was sticking to the walls, fresh air blew into the room via the opened window, small toys littered the room like the bottles behind him. He slowly walked up to the crib, happiness mixed with anxiety, for some reason he couldn't deduce. He picked up the small girl, wrapped in a blue blanket, the girls face screwed up in a smile upon seeing her daddy. He smiled back, and leant in to kiss her small nose. "Good morning Anna." He whispered softly before landing the kiss on her nose, causing her to laugh. He began to walk back into the other room to get her fed, when his gazed wandered around, picking up all the bottles and gambling tickets. He looked back down to Anna, her innocent eyes not leaving his.

"_She deserves better than this."_ He thought. He thought of his debt, and the state of his apartment. Then he thought about his love for Anna. He looked back down at Anna, gently lifting the milk bottle to her lips.

"I promise, you're going to have a great life. No matter what I have to do, you'll be happy." He said as she began feeding.

For that entire day, he played with Anna, ignored his customers, and began cleaning up his office, removing the bottles, the gambling tickets, leaving only the table, small cot, and a chair. He looked down at Anna as she played with one of her toys, a small ball. He was doing this for her, and that was all he needed. When Anna was finally put to bed, after hours of playing, and intently listening to her father talk, Booker began to look through yesterdays newspaper. Once used for gambling, now it was used for job search. A private eye paid well, but not many people had problems that were being brought to him.

He had debts to clear and a daughter to support after all, and he was not going to fail.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

**A/N: Guys, I'm thinking of making this a full story rather than a One-shot, showing how Elizabeth grew up in normal care of a normal father. If you would prefer to see this left as a One-shot, please favorite, follow, and review, but if you want it to be made into a fully fledged story, favorite, follow, and review, leaving your opinion. If you do want another chapter for the story, it may take a while as I've yet to begin writing it. [At the time of upload (30/01/2015)]**

**Thank you to all of you who have read this, it makes me glad that I'm not the only one who wants to see Elizabeth/Anna and Booker happy.**

**-Eclipse-Sol**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I get that the timeline can be confusing, so I'll explain it to those who do not understand it. Comstock was created by Booker's choice to take the baptism. He would have taken the name Zachary Hale Comstock, and then bought Anna back from his past self with the help of the Luteeces. But because Booker was killed before he could make that choice, there was no Comstock to buy Anna from him, so that is where the timeline continues from.**_

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**A Normal Life**

**Chapter Two**

Booker sat and read the paper, searching desperately for a new job. Preferably one that Anna would be proud of him for. So far, there were only two jobs that fit his skill set, working for the Pinkertons again, or providing security to a seedy bar three blocks over. He didn't want to be gone so long, so he immediately disregarded the protection job, and he outright refused to work for the Pinkertons, he wanted to start a new life, not re-live his old one. He was beginning to think that the world was conspiring against him as he pushed the paper down on to the desk, now clear of any bottles. A few gambling tickets remained though, much to his hatred. He looked towards the cupboards. "_Maybe a drink to take the edge off."_ He thought to himself, before vigorously shaking his head. "_No, I'm doing this for Anna, I can't fall back into the bottle."_ He glanced towards the closed nursery door. A soft snoring emanating behind it.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

A cry roused booker from his stupor. His head was against the desk, the newspaper acting as a pillow. He clenched his eyes shut firmly, trying to ward off the headache he was being subject to.

Another cry brought his eyes to open, seeing an empty bottle of cheap beer standing next to his limp hand. His headache reached new heights as he began to get up from his slumped position.

"_Dammit, I gotta get rid of this stuff!" _Booker was angry and disappointed with himself as he gazed upon the four bottles strewn across the floor. Another cry brought his attention back into the real world. This cry was shorter and softer than the others he had heard previously, but he did not worry.

He went into her little room, kicking a few of the bottles out of his way, much to his disdain. He reached into the crib, gently cradling his daughter in his arms as he brought her to his chest.

"Hush, hush, don't worry, daddies right here." He spoke softly, slowly rocking the small, beautiful person back into a fitful sleep. For many minutes, he simply sat in the small chair in the corner of the room, holding his small child, staring intently at her face, eyes filled with adoration.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

Elizabeth stood in a field of nothing. Not even colour. She stood alone, scared at the lack of any tangible entities. She could no longer see the doors, nor what lay behind them.

"She seems troubled." A feminine voice said behind her, disturbingly loud in the oppressing silence.

"That she does. Perhaps we should help her." A male counterpart sounded.

"That we shall." She turned around, and was beyond belief at the twins standing before her.

"But how can we be here? The universe ended, no time. The accidents that caused us to stand in the possibility space never happened. Why are we here?" Elizabeth asked, worried at the possible answer. She had figured them gone when she collapsed the worlds.

"Ah, but there lies the conundrum." Rosalind began.

"We are both in possibility space." Robert continued.

"And do not. We exist in a quantum superposition. We are, in essence, mistakes in the universe, that cannot be resolved."

"As such, we still exist, yet we don't." Robert clarified.

"So I can still open doors? Even if I don't know what lies behind them?"

"My dear girl, it is quantum. It is both there and not there, one simply has to look." Rosalind said.

Elizabeth blinked, and the twins were no longer there. "Well, that was a fun conversation." She said to the empty air. Elizabeth sat on the 'floor' and began to think about what the twins had said.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

It had been a week since Booker's last alcoholic drink, and he was proud. He was finally able to be there for his daughter. She was a quiet child, barely making a peep most nights, however, on some, nightmares would keep her awake for most, if not all, of the night. On these nights, Booker would sit in the rocking chair, Anna in his arms, rocking and singing a soft lullaby. It is here that Booker currently was. In the rocking chair, singing to his daughter softly. She had been on the receiving end of a nosebleed not a few minutes ago, and the sudden crimson liquid had frightened her. He had been rocking her for a hour and a half before she had fallen asleep again. It had taken only a minute for the nosebleed to pass. The shortest nosebleed he had ever seen, but he wasn't going to argue, and another minute for her to allow him to clean her up.

After putting new sheets into her crib, and laying her down, he allowed himself a proud smile. He was a daddy, and hopefully, a good one at that.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

Elizabeth had been opening doors for what could have been years, maybe only a few hours, possibility space had no concept of time. The first seventeen possible worlds were like a forgotten memory, blurred and obscured. She assumed that since she had collapsed most of the alternate possibilities, that these were either memories of the doors she had seen, or something was blocking her from fully merging with the world. The eighteenth however, was clear and as bright as day. She stumbled to the ground, blood running down her nose.

"_This never happened in the other worlds. Why here?" _The distracting thoughts and feelings stopped her from seeing the world, absorbed in her own thoughts as she were. "_Maybe this is the universe I came from? Do I have a counterpart here?_" She thought more on the subject. It was possible. She decided to seek out Booker. She would know her father when she sees him.

She hoped.

She finally looked around at her surroundings. Large brick buildings on either side of her, an empty street in front, poorly lit by several lamps, behind her was a brick wall. Several trash cans littered the alleyway, newspapers fluttered in the delicate wind.

Elizabeth had no idea where she was, but it seemed familiar, like an echo of a long forgotten song.

She decided to figure out the familiar feeling later, after she had found this world's Booker. So she left the alley, and began walking down the road, keeping an eye out for any signs, and forgetting about the nosebleed.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

_**To Noah and Columbus77: Thank you for your comments, it warms my heart to see your support. I've checked out the suggested story, and found it to my liking. Thank you for that suggestion. To everyone, I'm sorry this took so long, I did not realise that this would receive such nice reviews, and thus had not truly planned a plotline. I've tried to accommodate as many ideas given to my by the reviewers as possible, though sadly, some could just not fit into my desired plotline. To those who were not selected into the plot, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I apologise that this took so long, and I want to thank you all for waiting. I promise that one day these chapters will get longer. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am so goddamn sorry this took so long, but there were quite a few things I had to sort out for the plot, almost wrote myself into a corner. Took quite a bit of talking to a certain MasamuneZERO to finalise a plot, so to him I say "**_**Thank You."**_**To everyone else, while I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter, I'm happy enough to release to those who have been waiting patiently, please don't forget to review, and PM me if you have any questions.**

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**A Normal Life  
Chapter 3**

It had been weeks since Elizabeth entered this world of clarity, and she was becoming bored. She had been looking for an entire week. She was certainly in the right city, that she knew. It felt right, in an unexplainable way. She had brought money through the tear with her, so she had been able to buy food when she got hungry.

She had seen a lot of business signs and doors, but all of them were well kept and respectable. She was now walking into the gritter part of the city, in hopes of finding something.

"'_How hard can it be to find him?' I said, 'I'll know him when I see him.' I said."_ She thought sadly. This task was slowly taking away all of her joy and time. "_It's about time I took a break, I think."_ She finally conceded. She looked down the brightly lit street, the sun casting her shadow far in front of her, reflecting in the windows and obscuring parts of her vision. What she did see however was a small library.

Though small, it surely held books that she had never read, let alone _seen _before. She could revisit her innocence, forget the blood on her hands, and simply immerse herself in a good novel for a few hours.

She decided to enter the library.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

Elizabeth placed the book back into it's proper position on the shelf. She had successfully spent a few short hours reading '_The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes.'_ She was giddy over the intellect of Mr holmes, and it very early into her reading session it became one her favourites.

Having taken her break and revisited her childhood, her happy days, she could now restart the search for her father. She frowned at this. A childhood was meant to be happy _years_ not _days_. She would never get that time back. She shook her head, this was no time for such thoughts. She needed to be positive, hopeful, not depressed and self-pitying.

She left the library after thanking the Librarian. Always best to be polite. As the cold wind struck her and blew her hair, a fleeting thought passed through her head.

_Why am I looking for a _man_, when I need to look for a _door_?_ She asked herself. She knew all about doors, and all about Booker. He was a private eye, so he would have his own office and people would know where that was. Why was she search when she could ask?

With a hopeful smile on her face, she walked back into the building, and moved back to the Librarian. She was an old woman, her hair in a grey bun and her face withered, whose passion for books was outweighed only by Elizabeth's.

"Excuse me miss?" She began sheepishly. "I'm looking a Mr. Booker Dewitt. Do you know where his office is?" The old woman looked her in the eyes, her gaze caring and soft.

"Everyone knows where he is, darling, if only to know where to avoid. Surely you are not so desperate to hire him? He's not well liked." The old woman replied, her voice that of a mothers.

Elizabeth did not know about his reputation, and did not want to know it. She would hear it from Booker, after all he had done for her, the least she could do was grant him that, so she simply nodded and looked down. She hoped the woman would see that she needed his address. "I do. I do need to speak to him." She answered the old woman, not mentioning why.

"I do hate to see such a young and beautiful girl as you in trouble deary. If you truly do need to speak to him, his office is over two streets. Ground floor apartment. His name is on the door. I'm so sorry for your troubles." The woman answered. She sounded genuine. It was new to Elizabeth, the people she had met before only wanted to keep her locked away. She began to tear up at the kindness shown to her.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it." She said quietly, hardly loud enough to hear. She turned to leave, but could feel the Librarians gaze following her as she left.

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

Elizabeth stood outside the door. On the door were several words, which she longed to see.

_Booker Dewitt_

_Private Detective_

Now she was here however, she realised she didn't know what to say, how to act or what to do. Should she knock? Would he remember her? Will she reveal herself as his daughter, or keep it secret? Did she have a twin in there?

The door lead to her happiness, or to her rejection, and possible admittance to a mental asylum. She didn't want to go back.

She was scared. She had no idea what to do. The Booker she knew from Columbia was protective, loyal and supportive. He was also hard to talk to, often only answer when asked a question, but as he grew to know her, the more he revealed on his own.

What would he be like? Was he working at the moment?

Mentally slapping herself, Elizabeth stood tall. This was her Father. _I should not be afraid of my own Father, he has made no mistakes here._ She thought to herself, trying to work up the courage to knock.

As she raised her hand to knock, she realised that her twin might very well be alive and in there. Were she to knock it would only put a strain on his mentality and already low resources. What kind of daughter would do that?

She shied from the door, her hand lowering one question robbed her of all her courage.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she walked away from the door. As she walked away from the door and down the street, her head was lowered and her cheeks were stained with tears.

Just as she left the street, and rounded the corner, Booker's door opened as he started his application for a new job.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I cannot apologize enough for all the time I have wasted, I have decided to give those of you who stayed a slightly longer chapter. I will make no excuses for my lack of content. You all deserve a medal for your extreme patience. However since my last time posting on here, I learnt of Monty Oum's passing and I would like to dedicate further writings in his name. Again, I thank you all for you extraordinary patience, and if I could, I would literally give you a medal.**

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**A Normal Life**

**Chapter Four**

Booker opened his door, and for a brief second, felt… was that sadness? He wasn't sure, he had very little to be sad about. Shaking it off, he started walking to the library, his daughter held firmly in his arms. He would never let her go.

He walked slowly, not wanting to wake his daughter. '_She would love this weather.'_ He thought to himself. He had previously put in a job application at the local library. The money wasn't the best, but it was more than enough to support himself and Anna. Maybe even save enough to buy a better place for her. He had dedicated his entire being to his daughter.

He was delivered a letter recently from the library asking for his presence. Because he was hopeful about his pending hiring, he immediately began to make preparations.

On the way to the library, Anna woke up, he soft movements and soft humming tickled against Booker's chest. For the rest of the journey, he was content with simply amusing Anna with his cooing.

It was not long before he was looking at the brick building. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He had cleaned up for this, lean shirt, trousers, jacket and a shave. He was loath to lose his stubble, but if that is what it took to make a life for Anna, that is what he would gladly do.

Holding his precious daughter in one hand, he opened the door, the faint smell of paper hitting his nose. It was not unpleasant. Anna seemed to enjoy it, a smile etched onto her face as she stared at the walls of books, eyes wide in wonder. While Anna was occupied with the new environment, Booker approached the desk.

"Good evening, I was asked here by the head Librarian. My name is -" Booker started but was cut off by the desk girl. She was a young girl, likely helping her parents while school was on holiday.

"Booker DeWitt, yes? I've been told to expect you. I'll get mother for you now." Her voice, while having an underlying tone of pleasantness, was sharp. Booker's time with the Pinkertons told him that she knew exactly who he was, and why he was there, and she didn't like it.

"Of course, would you like me to accompany you, or shall I wait here?" While he knew which one he would prefer, he felt it best to ask, His daughter's future hanged in them accepting him.

"If you would please stay here." She replied stiffly. She then walked off between the rows of books. It was not a long time after when an elderly woman approached him, her soft coloured clothes at an impasse with her eyes of steel.

"Mr DeWitt. Thank you for arriving promptly. You are aware of course that this is in regards to your application." Booker nodded to the implied question. "Good, in that case I have to simple questions. Will the customers and the library be safe? You are known to attract trouble."

Booker had knew this was coming. His life as a soldier then as a Pinkerton did not make for a calm life. " I can honestly say that I mean no harm to this building nor anyone in it. It shall come to no harm on my account." He meant that. This was his way to providing for his daughter. He would let no one ruin that.

The head librarian held his gaze for what felt like an eternity to Booker. Eventually she seemed convinced. "Very well, I believe you. Second question. Why?"

A one word question, over a hundred possible interpretations, but for Booker, there was only one thing to answer with. The same thing that got him up in the mornings, stopped him from running from his debts, that kept him sane. "My daughter. I do not want her growing up without toys. Without clothes on her back. I applied so that my daughter may live happily."

His voice was like iron, daring anyone to try and dispute his words. The librarian nodded. Okay then. Welcome to the library! Wear what you want, you start on monday at nine. You may bring your daughter, I doubt you would do any different even if I asked.I'll show you what you'll be doing then. Congratulations." She shook his hand, and wiggled her fingers at the little one in Booker's arms. Anna had turned to face the elderly woman when Booker answered the second question.

Booker let out a breath as the librarian turned and walked away. Thinking upon his situation, he decided that knowing the library before monday arrived would be a good idea. So he went in search of something to read. He knew he was lying to himself by saying that staying here was for his future work. He knew he was going stir crazy in his apartment. He knew Anna needed to see something new. He knew that his life was going to change in this library, and that it would change dramatically.

He had searched through two corridors of shelves, before he found something that interested him, a story about a single father who set out to find his kidnapped daughter. He felt it paralleled his life in many ways, though he couldn't for the life of him remember why he felt like that.

He had been getting these feelings and impressions more and more often, and it worried him. It felt like something was coming his way, and he was scared.

He was deep in thought when a voice broke through and startled him. He half spun around, his military experience taking over, while half of him covered Anna with his own body, his parental instincts taking control.

"Excuse me, ?"

**. -.-. .-.. .. .-. ... . -...- ... - .-..**

Elizabeth remembered coming here after running from Booker. She had walked calmly, her head held high, but with tears threatening to break. She had run to the one place she felt safe, that wasn't with Booker.

Almost as soon as she opened the door, she felt eyes upon her, studying her. Pitying her. She followed her feet to a bookshelf, and felt her hand grasp a book. Which one she knew not, her vision was blurry.

She hadn't even managed to sit down in a chair and begin reading before she felt someone approach her. Glancing at the presence, she saw the outline of the librarian. She quickly looked back to her book before she could see her tears.

The librarian sat down in front of her, across the width of the long table. "Dear, is everything okay? Do you need anything?"

Elizabeth felt her breath hitch, her throat close off as her eyes burned even hotter than before. '_Yes, I need my father!' _She shouted in her head. "N. No thank you." She said, stumbling over her breaking words. She knew the Librarian wasn't convinced.

The elderly woman sighed deeply. "Honey, It's just going to hurt you more if you bottle it up. Why don't you talk about it?" Elizabeth's shoulders shook. "Was it something said?"

That was it. Elizabeth couldn't hold it in anymore. In the first time in what felt like centuries, she cried.

Coming back from the memory, she felt like she had failed. She had gone to a stranger instead of Booker. She knew what he would say, if he knew her situation. He would forgive her. But she couldn't forgive herself.

'_Booker are you afraid of God?'_ She remembered asking Booker that. His response meant nothing to her at that point in time. Now it means everything.

'_No. But I'm afraid of you.' _She knew that this Booker didn't know her, wasn't _afraid_ of her, but she kept hearing his confession. She knew, logically, that Booker meant no harm, that her father still loved her, but she couldn't get rid of that repeating, depressing line.

As she heard the door open, she glanced at it. She always had, hoping beyond all semblance of hope that _Booker _would find _her._ Regardless of what she knew, still she yearned for his company. She could not see who had entered, a bookcase was in the way, but she knew this was important. Whoever had just walked through that door had something to do with her, she could feel it.

Minutes passed and nothing happened, so she returned to her reading, after being comforted by the Librarian, whom she had convinced that Booker did nothing wrong, she had began to devour the books, shelf after shelf of them, some she had already read, some interested her greatly.

As she finished her chapter, she heard footsteps behind her, she turned and looked at how it was. No one had approached her the entire week she was here.

She saw who it was. She nodded to herself, steeling her resolve, and chasing away her nerves. Silently walking towards the man, she felt her palms were sweating, She saw him grab a book. She had read it a few days previously.

It was an ironic choice for him to choose. She would have giggled had the pressure not been hampering her breathing.

"Excuse me, Mr DeWitt?" She ventured.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys, I know it says random uploads up there in the description, but I **_**might **_**be getting close to working out a schedule, so there may be hope!**

**This is dedicated to Monty Oum, Rest In Peace you glorious man.**

**A Normal Life  
Chapter 5**

"Excuse me, Mr DeWitt?" Her voice was scarily quiet in the library. The sounds of pages turning and quiet gossiping was muffled by her heart beating in her ears.

She was shocked when he spun around, reminiscent of when they back in Columbia. The thought brought a small warmth to her heart.

His face was exactly as she remembered it, the hard eyes set within the chiseled features. "Yes, can I help you?" His voice, while calm and steady, was betrayed by his eyes, the suspicion showing through ever so slightly.

She suddenly found it much harder to say what was rushing through her mind. "Um...I don't suppose you recognise me do you?" It was a good a place as any to start. She used to be so eloquent with her words, yet she was never this nervous.

His eyebrows dropped, meeting his eyes, as the suspicion only intensified. "I feel as if I should know you, but I'm sorry. I don't remember you. Is there anything else you need, Ms?" It was obvious that he wanted her name.

But which name to give. Her given name, gifted by her true father, _Anna,_ or the name given by her estranged father, _Elizabeth._

She decided to tell the truth, Booker's truth as much as possible. "Oh, my name's Anna. I'm looking for my father."

His look hardened, then slowly softened, for some unexplainable reason.

"Whatever you've heard about me, forget it, I'm not doing that sort of work anymore. I've got a daughter to think about now, and I don't want her to be brought into that type life. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

There it was. The undeniable truth, she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his words. He had a daughter already, and he truly loved her. For the, what was to her, years that she searched for this door, Booker had loved his daughter. Yet here she was, about to ruin his life again. She would enter his life, disrupt what he knew about the universe, and no doubt put him in some new form of danger that would not only endanger him, but also his daughter. If she died, what would happen to her?

Her eyes traveled to the floor, deep in thought, _what would be right in this situation?_ She asked herself. _What do I want? _She asked in response. Throughout all of her questioning, she knew what she would do, and it brought tears to her eyes. She did not approve of the means, but she certainly approved of the result. She always had, ever since learning the truth.

She nodded her head in resolution. She knew what she would do, and she knew what she would need. She thanked Mr DeWitt for his time, and then made her way into the quietest shelves of books she could find. She knew that the book would not exist here. She knew because the author didn't exist here.

She opened a tear, the ethereal light bathing her in itself, and she reached into her old tower. She knew the books by feel and weight, she had read then so many times, she could quote them by memory. She brought out a specific book, one that had captivated most of her adult life in one form or another.

Walking back to DeWitt, she once again asked for his attention. "Mr DeWitt, there are things that I want to talk to you about, things that you will not understand or even accept. This explains most of it. Please. Read it." There were unshed tears in her eyes now.

He took the book in silence, it was a good sign, at least he wasn't rejecting her outright.

**P.O.V Booker DeWitt**

Anna handed me a book, it was heavy and bound in purple leather. It seemed expensive, far too expensive for this library to have on it's shelves.

I had no clue how reading a book will help explain what she's talking about, I dare say she's been suffering with some form of addiction with the way she's been talking, add in the missing daddy, then it's all too possible.

"Say I read this, how will it explain whatever you're talking about?"

She nodded as if expecting my question. She sure is unsettling. "I'll be here every friday, so come and find me." Her words were confidant sure, but her eyes were begging. Begging me to read it and just give her a chance. It embarrases me slightly that I can see what people truly mean by their eyes, but never take the time to talk to them.

"Alright" I decided. "I'll read this, but if it does not explain some universal truth to life, or something, then I'm out." Fair enough decision, where I can back out if I need to.

A slightly troubled look in her eyes seeped in. She was worried about something. "Just...Ignore the science in there, and focus on the philosophical, the meanings. I will explain the rest when you finish. I promise."

I cracked, the look in her eyes was far too vulnerable for a girl of her age. If reading this book will calm her down, then fine.

"Now I'm going to cut the conversation short, right here, so I can get my daughter back before my daughter wakes up from her nap." Without a goodbye I left, taking the book with me. I knew that Anna, my Anna, would wake up soon and she would be hungry, I didn't bother signing out the book because I knew it didn't come from the library. Years of working for the Pinkertons taught me that much.

I knew I should have stayed later, learnt as much as I could about my new work space, but that girl was unsettling me. I did not like being rattled. I needed to adjust, back to normality to do so.

**P.O.V Elizabeth**

He walked away from me, his daughter clutched in one of his arms, the other hand tightly closed around the book. He didn't sign it out. I wondered why. I knew he was rattled, I would have been, but he hid it well. It was only because I already knew him that I knew he was rattled.

I wasn't afraid he would never read it, instead simply casting it aside without a second glance. He made a promise, and Booker DeWitt keeps his promises. It's what killed him, why _I_ killed him.

I was happy that he was so attached to his daughter, but it also made me nervous. What would he think of either of us if he knew the truth, would he forget Anna, maybe forget me, in favour of her?

The thought of being effectively abandoned made me numb.

'_Here's hoping he's open-minded.'_ I thought to myself. I returned the book to the shelf and slowly walked back to the motel where I was staying, lost in thought.


End file.
